Spots
by BlackDandelion
Summary: The love story of Blaise Zabini and Ginny Weasley.
1. Chapter 1

**Spots** by BlackDandelion

note from the author: I _heart_ Blaise/Ginny. Basically, the whole Harry/Ginny things is way to predictable to me, Draco belongs with Hermionie and Dean was boring. So this is my try. I'm thinking this will be a three-shot, but I'm flaky.  
Anyway, that's about it. I believe I'm working on a Blackwater fic, but we'll have to see. I'm odd that way. Also, I know that someone nominated "Command" to the 2009 Twilight Awards and I just want to say a million thank you. You guys couldn't be cooler if you tried.

Disclaimer: Not mine, all cred to J.K. Rowling and the romantic tunes of Blue that got me in the mood.

Black skin stretches under pale freckled hands and she tries to remind herself that they've got all night. He smiles up at her, brown eyes twinkling from the candlelight and she can't shake the feeling of completion – such a luxurious feeling in her life. His gorgeous mouth quivers under her pale freckled fingers and she tries to remind herself that they've got their whole life.

Percy is the first to find out. He is a wreck after Fred. Glasses askew, eyes red and swollen, wand tucked in a mess of red hair, _sweatpants. _  
"Blaise and me-" Ginny tries to explain as her boyfriend tugs on his own pants, sheet not covering all that.  
"Blaise and I," both Blaise and Percy correct. Ginny groans, but she thinks she sees a sparkle of something in Percy's eyes. Even if it is just a sparkle of appreciation at a fellow anal grammatical nut, it still makes her happy.  
"Right. Blaise and I are dating." She crosses her arms angrily across her scantily clad chest as if daring Percy to oppose, perhaps call her mother. Percy just smiles at them both.  
"Love is needed in these times," he turns out of her bedroom, whistling and Ginny wonders if he's channelling Dumbledore.

With "these times" Percy refers to the after war period. Or more specifically, the after-Fred period.  
Ginny tires sometimes of the mourning. She loved her brother, more than anyone in the whole wide world. But when her mother starts to sob again because she calculated the number of placing at the table wrong or when her father accidently says "the twins" only to be corrected by his own sad eyes or when Bill sleeps in Fred's old bed and won't leave the smell of his lost brother – at those times, Ginny wonders why they all can't just get over it.  
She tells Blaise this, in so many words, and for a moment fears that he will leave her sorry unsympathetic arse. He just shrugs, dark hair falling into his eyes, which are surveying her closely.  
"They're dealing," he tells her, "slower than you want, but they are. You don't want to rush this, believe me."  
He clamps up, but she knows he's thinking about his father, his real one, that is and later that evening, when she sends up a balloon full of wishes towards the sky she doesn't hope that her family will stop thinking about Fred.  
She hopes that Blaise will sit down and talk about his father with her.

Surprisingly, Percy isn't at all awkward. They sit around Ginny's small breakfast table, better dressed than a few moments ago, and drink earl grey accompanied with a honest to god civil conversation.  
"I hear you work for the "Daily Prophet" now?" Percy asks, taking a long sip of tea. Tea calms him.  
"I'm trying to clean it up," Blaise answers, relishing in the prideful stare he receives from Ginny whenever he declares his intentions with the newspaper. "During the war it became flaky, killing morale rather than encouraging it. If ever such a tragedy were to occur again," all three at the breakfast table cross their fingers, hope to god and knock on wood, "we need a reliable, independent and intelligent source of knowledge."  
He refrains from calling Percy "sir", despite knowing it would boost his image. He's done with sucking up to people.  
"That's very ambitious of you," Percy acknowledges reluctantly. Then, with a smile that reminded Ginny of a smile long lost he asks: "And what exactly are your intentions with my baby sister? You seem to be doing the opposite there? Dirtying her down?"

Harry is the next to meet Blaise.  
It's incredible, fanatically awkward. The ex-boyfriend and the love of her life. Sitting together, on a couch.  
He walks in during tea-time. Not dirty time. _Thank god.  
_"How have you been?" he asks Ginny, trying not to look at the new man on her couch.  
Ginny knows that she killed the dream of them together. A future with a house, a dog and children with matching, meaningful names. She's rather satisfied with her decision.  
"Oh, you know. The usual. Work sucks," she smiles brightly at Blaise, who shifts uncomfortably.  
"Your mother misses you." Again, Harry doesn't send Blaise a second glance. _Zabini is not here. _  
"I've been busy," Ginny says shortly. Blaise sighs.  
"I'm making tea, does anyone want tea?" Ginny nods, Harry glowers.  
"You should visit your mother."  
"So I've been told," scoffs Ginny watching Blaise's arse as he makes his way into her, _their_, kitchen. Harry glowers some more.  
"Oh, come off it Harry. I saw her last Saturday."  
Harry frowns, the pale scar on his forehead looking like a doodle that could very well have come from one of Ginny's History of Magic notebooks.  
"Is it _him_?" he whispers, eyes darting over her frame. "Is he threatening you, holding you hostage? It would surprise me, he is a death-"  
Ginny's up, wand against the pulse of his neck.  
"Finish that sentence," she snarls, brown eyes vivid with anger, "I freaking dare you."

Blaise comes out of his kitchen.  
His red-haired girlfriend is panting and the hero of the wizarding world is sitting terrified on a couch, his neck being near penetrated by her wand. Blaise hands Ginny her tea and sits down on the couch, watching them both warily.  
"Gin, maybe you should not kill him, yeah?" he asks, taking a sip of his own tea.  
"He was talking about you-" Ginny splutters angrily and he knows exactly what Harry was saying.  
"I don't blame him," he shrugs lazily and Ginny admires the way he nonchalantly handles shit. "I've done a lot of bad stuff."  
"No," the wand pokes Harry harder as Ginny shakes her head so harshly her whole body moves, "your dad did a lot of bad stuff."  
"Watching is as bad as doing," croaks Harry. Softly, Blaise's large hand wraps around Ginny's wand and steers it away.  
"Watch it, Potter." Mouth twisted into an angry grimace, Ginny steps away from the man shaking with anger. "You don't get to insult the people I love."  
"He killed people, Ginny!" explodes Harry, almost upturning the coffee table in his rant. Tea spills across the glass surface, Blaise leans back into the couch – tiredly running his hands over his features.  
"I have done some bad stuff." A scoff comes from Harry's direction. "But I am trying to make up for it."  
"How? With the Daily Prophet? That's garbage and you know it!" Form shaking with anger, the bespectacled boy hovers above him. "The real people, those who are trying to help, are out there right now bringing in the death eaters, your bloody friends!"  
"That's is enough, Harry!" Ginny grabs him by the arm, pulling him away from her boyfriend. "Blaise does not need to become an auror for redemption." Her voice is soft and calm- but there is a hidden frenzy, a need to stop any sudden career moves.  
Green eyes sparkle with newfound intelligence.  
"You don't want him to be an auror, do you?" A smirk dances on his features, the taste of victory in his mouth. "Because you know he's bad." The reply is quick as the first he narrowly misses.  
"I don't want him becoming an auror because it's bloody dangerous, that's why!"  
"Language, Gin," mumbles Blaise absentmindedly from the couch.  
"When we were dating you didn't have a problem with my job!" He's resisting her pushing him towards the front door.  
"I didn't love you as much!" Ginny blushes as red as her hair as Blaise sends her confused glances, the nonchalance of his posture long gone.  
Harry looks taken aback, angry and sad. Green eyes speckled with hurt.  
"Obviously not." He leaves without a word, leaving a panting girl, a guilt ridden boy and a wall of bodies between them.

TBC.  
reviews are lovely. 


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Summer's over, schools begun – expect more because I so desperately don't want to do my homework.

* * *

He's gone in the morning. The only trace is the message he left with a sharpie on her right hand. _Gone for redemption. _She thinks it sucks.

It sucks even more when Luna stops by, four months pregnant and hormonal screaming about Draco leaving as well.

"Swedish fairies took my Draco and Blaise for a mission to stop global warming!" Blonde hair decorated with roses in a tangle, eyes red with sorrow and a protective, long-fingered hand on the belly. Then Ginny hands her a cup of tea and her posture changes, serenity invades her body and she relaxes, rubbing soothing circles across her expanding stomach. "The Hornsnacks will guide Draco back home to me on a cloud of rainbows." Ginny nods.

"Of course they will."

* * *

Luna sleeps in Ginny's, _their, _bed for the next month. It's hard to believe that Draco, the same Draco who went mad and bought three cribs for his potential daughter, is missing the expanding of her stomach, the way she wobbles a little bit more, the kicks that are becoming more frequent.

He left in the middle of the night, after a knock on the door and a pleading voice. Gave Luna a kiss on the temple that she thought was a dream and a note on the "Quibbler" lying on her nightstand.

_Love you. Be back soon. _

He's not back soon, two months later he's still gone and Luna doesn't step foot into their mansion.

* * *

It's nice having someone around. Having Luna around. They always clung to each other, the outcasts of Hogwarts. But now, when their hearts are somewhere else, possibly battling death eaters, she finds that without Luna the days would be darker.

She goes to work, Blaise named her editor in chief in his absence. At work, she misses him even more. When Collin decides that it's okay to flirt, (and Collin's flirting is smacking her playfully on the arse and slobbering down her shirt) because the black warning stare is off god knows where, it takes Luna and Percy to calm her down as to not cast a third Bat Boogey Hex on the man.

"You heard from him?" Percy asks as he nurses the black eye she gave him in her anger.  
"No, I'm forgetting him." She says, slapping on a bag of ice onto his eye. "What's his name again?"  
"Don't be cute, Ginny." Wincing at the cold, Percy wraps slender fingers around her wrist. "He'll be back."  
"Don't care if he is," Ginny says, pulling on a pair of socks. "I'll see you Saturday, yeah?"  
Her stubbornness makes Percy's blood pressure elevate.

* * *

Family dinner on Saturdays. Luna is always there nowadays. Both for her sake and Ginny's. Her mother sends worrying looks Ginny's way as she picks at her food, growing thinner for each week that passes. Ron keeps a calming hand on Hermionie's thigh as Luna tells them all about two-headed Leprechauns from Ukraine that give babies pretty hair.

"Darling, are you feeling alright?" Molly asks her daughter. She receives a tight smile and her heart winds up like an old clock.  
At her right Harry scoffs loudly and Percy gives him a pointed glance. Suspicion painted across her pretty face, Hermione stuffs an entire bread roll into her mouth and eyes the exchange for longer than her parents would find polite.

"How's work, dear?" Arthur inquires, pushing glasses up his nose. "I heard that Zabini chap left you as Editor in Chief?"

Ginny had not told them about Draco leaving with him, nor about Luna living with her. Her parents could barely handle reading the gossip section of the prophet without information overload.

"A promotion!" gushes Molly, slapping some potatoes on Ginny's plate. "Why didn't you tell us? I would have made carrot cake!"

Pushing the potatoes of her plate onto Luna's Ginny says monotonously: "He'll be back, it's just temporary."

Harry snorts again and Hermione's head whips in his direction. Then Draco Malfoy cracks into the room.

* * *

Silence reigns. Luna stares at her husband missing since three months. He is emanciated, dirty with purple paint streaked across his face and bloody hands. Then she picks up a potato and throws it at his forehead.

"Shit!" Draco croaks as the vegetable bounces of his forehead and lands sadly on the kitchen floor. Ginny has already leapt from her seat and grabs him by his scruffy collar with her wand poking into his Adam's apple.

"Where is he?" she snarls.

"He's coming."

Draco stares at Luna as Ginny lets go of his collar and sends him crashing down.

"Darling?" he asks tentatively. He takes a step forward, the sight of her stomach (missed gained pounds) makes him catch his breath.

"Are the ice-caps still melting?" Luna asks him, a second potato griped tightly in her hand. Her voice, while essentially serene has an unusual tone – one of pure desperation. Like when a cat meows for tuna.

Draco shakes his head; a small smile stretches over his chapped lips.

"Thank you so much Molly," Luna says, turning towards the head of the table, "for this lovely dinner. I do greatly appreciate you having me over." She stood up heavily, her yellow robes rustling heavily against the dining table.

There was a crack and Ginny was left, hands resting on the dining table the only thing keeping her from crashing to the floor.

"What happened to forgetting him?" Percy asks gently as he pries her grip off the dining table and leads her back to her chair. She glares distractedly, but Percy is focused. Especially as the entire family is eyeing them both with a confusion not seen since the rumours about Dumbledore and Grindlewald.

"What's going on?" Ron asks, through a mouthful of Sheppard's pie.

"Why don't you tell them, Ginny?" snarls Harry, tossing back the last of his butterbeer.

"Tell us what, Ginevra?" Molly's face was stern, the experience of raising seven children etched clearly in her forehead.

Ginny looked around at the wide eyes of her family. Hermione was eyeing her quietly in that all knowing way that suggested she was informed to the max.

"I'm dating Blaise Zabini," Ginny said, waiting for the explosion.

There's silence. Then George bursts out laughing. Ginny hasn't heard him laugh for weeks, months, years? She wants to sob.

"That's it?" he asks through guffaws. The whole table relaxes. Except Harry.

"What do you mean 'That's it'?" he exclaims, "This is huge! He is evil."

"No offense, Harry." Molly says, serving him another piece of pie, "But you're slightly biased in this case." She smiles sweetly at the scowling man.

"Not to mention that whole hating anything that has touched Draco Malfoy thing you have," said Ron.

"Ginny could be dating much worse," mused Hermione, "I was contemplating setting you up – but the only single guy at the ministry is that guy that picks his nose with his wand."

"So, what?" Harry asks incredulously, "You're all just approving this?"

Arthur shrugged. "What are we supposed to do? Ginny's a grown up and Zabini is a lovely man."

"But why were you threatening Malfoy?" asks George, "Not that I oppose violence against the Malicious one, but still?"

Ginny, shocked from her family's calm approval, was stumped.

"Oh, he went with Zabini on the trip. Ginny's just anxious to see her lover boy again, aren't you, Gin?" Percy jumped in, winning a spot in her heart.

"Wait!" exclaimed Ron, "Did Percy know about you two before me? Your favourite brother!"

"Oh, that's bull, Ron! Obviously, I am the favourite!" George shouted over the table.

"She didn't tell me," Percy blurts, "I walked in on them."

To everyone's surprise, Molly stands up, waving her wand threateningly. "Ginerva Weasley! Practising pre-marital sex are we? Your brother and Hermione waited well until they were married-" Hermione and Ron exchanged guilty looks "-and it would do you good and well to wait as well. Such promiscuity among young people-" She stomped off into the kitchen, dirty dishes flying obediently behind her, steered by her wand.

* * *

She returns to an empty apartment. Luna has been by and picked up her stuff. She's left a large yellow sunflower and an invitation to tea the next day on the bed. Briefly contemplating going to a bar for a one night stand in order to _not sleep alone - _she makes tea. Suddenly, he's standing there with the jug of milk and pot of honey.

TBC.


End file.
